Stars, Secrets, and Lies
by Moonlitpuma
Summary: Tara Nightwalker has found a home at the Paris Institute. In a special program for prodigies, she befriends some of the best Shadowhunters of her generation. The head of the Institute is killed, and the team decides to take on the investigation themselves. More questions are raised than answers found, and things get darker as the investigation turns into a matter of life and death.
1. Chapter 1

I thought I knew the residents of the Paris Institute better. Turns out, I'm not as smart as I thought.

 _Saturday, June 11th, 2016._

A window to my right let in bright spring light, making my cramped white bathroom seem twice its original size. I was looking into the mirror, desperately trying to blow dry my mass of curls without having my hair take a trip back to the eighties. There was a pounding on the bathroom door, and jumped so badly I nearly burned my forehead with the heated tool. I may be a Shadowhunter, but I seem to be the only one who got left out on the whole "graceful by blood of the angel" bit.

"Hey, are you still alive in there? If not, I am going back downstairs to get the twins to help me haul your body away. I am _not_ doing that by myself," Skylar asked through the door.

So what, I had been locked in my little en-suite bathroom for three hours? A spa day takes time. And a little procrastination never hurt nobody. In the most whiny, irritating voice I could muster, I started complaining. "I don't wanna stay inside doing boring shit today!"

"Daniel, Seth and some random guy are training downstairs."

I dropped the blow dryer, instantly giving up on the task at hand to whip open the door.

"You have my attention," I called, looking around for Skylar. I found her inches from where the door flung open, with an offended look on her pale face.

"Jesus Christ dude! Almost broke my nose! I know that-"

Knowing a joke about my urgency at the mention of _random guy, Daniel,_ and _training,_ in one sentence was coming, I threw on the nicest shirt I could find and raced out the door.

Three flights of stairs later, I was doing up the last button on my shirt while breathing a little too heavily. I bumped into Mae at the entrance of the training room, my head still down and concentrating on slipping the final button through its proper opening. Her head whipped around at contact, her long hair whipping me in the face when I looked up in surprise. Brazilian temper: not to mess with.

"Watching your booooyfriend?" I taunted. Well, not to mess with until you've known her for three years.

"Of course. It's not my fault being a Shadowhunter gives you abs." She said matter-of-factly.

"And PTSD." I muttered, smiling to myself. Mae heard, and I saw the corner of her mouth go up, though her eyes were back on the three figures in the training room. Two were locked in a sword fight, one towering over the other. The clank of metal on metal was harsh on the ears, and the light bouncing off the runed blades was blinding. They moved so fast, it was a matter of seconds before the shorter figure was on his knees, with the tip of his opponent's sword inches from his throat. He slowly brought his hands up as a gesture of surrender, his sword clattering to the ground as he did so. I turned to see Mae beaming, as expected.

The boy who just won- the tall one who looks like he could be on steroids- is Seth. He may seem intimidating in the shadows, but just talking to the guy makes any chance at intimidation disappear. Mae calls him her Spanish teddy bear, which gives you an idea of how soft the man really is. I wouldn't be surprised if Mae was the reason for his soft heart- the two of them are inseparable, the cutest couple in the City of Light. The long sword prodigy and the archery prodigy. It's adorable. Just... don't tell them I said that- I like my head on my neck, fully intact, thank you.

All the permanent residents here at the Paris institute are some sort of teenage prodigy, myself included. The only exceptions we have are Gennaia and Jacques: the stereotypical high-maintenance French woman and the...um, questionable, yet hilarious warlock. Gennaia is the head of the Institute, and the founder of the program the rest of us are in. In total, there's nine of us here year-round, with some visitors here and there. This is Paris after all. Even through Shadowhunter eyes, it's beautiful.

Seth turned away from his opponent, a smug look on his face. Mae ran up to congratulate him, wrapping her arms around him. Seth bent down to hug her, as the Brazilian girl only came up to his chest with a simple pair of Vans on her feet. Mae's recently vacated spot was almost immediately filled by Vesper. She was taller than me, with short brown hair. She had come from Australia with her twin sister, and is here as a blunt trauma specialist- which is just a nice way of saying give her a hammer or axe and enough time, and everything will end up dead.

"Hey Blondie," she said by way of greeting. I tried not to be irritated, as much as the nickname bothered me. "Gennaia says meet in the library- ten minutes," I raised an eyebrow and looked at her, asking why we'd all have to be in the library. That was my job.

As the language prodigy of the program, I can speak or at least understand every language you can think of, human or demonic. I usually spent my days cooped up in the library, pouring over whatever texts Gennaia had left me, with only Jacques for company. Meanwhile, Seth, Mae, Daniel, Skylar, Vesper, and Sylynn are out saving the residents of Paris and fulfilling the angel's mission. So compared to their demon-fighting-life-and-death stories, I guess you could say I feel unimportant sometimes. But I do have to remember what happened last time I was out in action, and why I refuse to go out anymore.

"Don't look at me! Gennaia just told me to grab all you guys!" She defended herself as if the gesture was an accusation. "Grab your boyfriend and let's go," she said, turning. I cringed: I never would get used to that word. Sighing, I turned to back to the training room. Despite the countless dents in walls, the odd hole in the wood floor, and worn weapons scattered here and there, it was quite beautiful. The spring light that had illuminated my bathroom was now tainted through stained glass windows, pouring into the vast space. It was huge, with rafters from the church's original architecture stretching high above. I took a step into the room, and made my way towards the group of teens gathered in the centre.

After escorting Seth's opponent out of the Institute (I found out from Daniel he had been an applicant for the long sword prodigy position. He obviously failed, his trip from Japan quickly turned pointless.), I was sitting cross-legged on the floor of the library, my back against a bookshelf. My head was resting on Daniel's shoulder, bored waiting for Gennaia to show up. We all sat in silence, as we were taught to do in instances like this from the day we showed up. Personally, I was not all that fond of the strict way the Institute was run, but it had its moments. We all had roles to do, from Sylynn knowing what to put on any injury to me having supper made at the end of the day.

At the approaching sound of heels clicking on tile, we all looked to the doorway. A short bony woman sashayed in, black dress too tight, and shoes that looked deadlier than a seraph blade. Her head was down, looking a clipboard. Without acknowledging anyone, she started attendance.

"Jacques," The warlock who never left France.

"Seth Ashwell," The Spanish boy who was spoiled but didn't turn out a brat.

"Tara Nightwalker," Me, the Russian girl who lost her Parabatai as soon as she had one.

"Skylar Shadowheart," The Scottish girl with a talent with knives after her parents used them against her.

"Daniel Silverhood," The Irish boy that was neglected but has the best aim with anything that resembles a spear.

"Maelyn Whitecross," The Brazilian girl that no one in her home town remembers.

"Vesper and Sylynn Woodmark," The Australian twins, both with a knack for killing and one with a healing hand.

She rushed through attendance, barely giving anyone time to utter a short "here". It was odd, she was usually so thorough. A quick scratch on her sheet with a pen followed each name.

Once she was done, she turned and placed the clipboard on the massive desk that was at the arch of a semi-circle of couches and chairs. She paused for a moment, back to us, and blew out a breath. Turning around slowly, we all saw her face for the first time that day. Her appearance made me sit up straighter, sensing something was off immediately. The Gennaia I had spent three years living under would never show herself with a hair out of place, yet there was running mascara under her eyes and tear tracks in the powder on her face. The powder was unusually thick, obviously applied in an effort to try and hide the purple and red tinge to certain patches on the skin of her face and neck. Her dark eyes were glassy, and looked past us to the wall at our backs.

"Vous devez départez," she stated simply, her voice shaking. I had never seen her this undone, so out of it she went back to her first language. Looking down, she made eye contact with each of us. She repeated herself, voice more steady this time. "You all must leave."

"Gennaia..." I started, getting to my feet to go to her side. "Qu'est-ce que c'est arrivé?" _What happend?_

But I never found out. It was then that I heard a whooshing sound go by my ear, which I hardly had time to register before Gennaia's head fell neatly off her neck, rolling onto the desk behind her.

 **Please comment! My first ever fanfic, and I know it's fast-paced here with some mistakes there, but hey, like the characters or plot? Let me know! All criticism is appreciated!**


	2. Chapter 2

**I want to apologize for taking forever. My laptop decided to get a bunch of viruses, and it was at "the hospital" for a week. I was forced to write on paper in my notebook, the horrid torture of hand cramps was too real for seven days straight. It took forever to transfer the chapter into a digital copy, but here you go. Enjoy (:**

Chapter 2

I was too shocked to scream.

I really wanted to help, to do something and be included in the sudden commotion, but I couldn't. Everything seemed to become distant and slow. My eyes were glued to the body on the floor, my brain not fully understanding how such a familiar figure could be missing something so significant. The head with the now-blank eyes stared at me from its position on the desk. A part of me wanted to gag, but I couldn't do that either. I didn't even notice how the blood gushing from her neck spayed me, I was too distracted its red colour slowly eclipsing my vision, seeping in from the edges of the world. It was like having a head rush, except instead of the black that momentarily clouds your vision, the red-tainted state of dizziness wouldn't pass.

I felt someone brush past me, rushing toward the body, though I'm unsure why. I subconsciously knew without doubt Gennaia was beyond help. Curious, I attempted to turn my head. It was like I was in honey, the air suddenly seemed thick and restrictive. The motion was a bad idea: the red in my vision darkened to a bottomless black. I realized the colour meant only as a sense of falling came over me, and it seemed like hours before I actually hit the ground. I heard someone say my name, but it was so distorted it sounded as if I was underwater. I didn't even have time to register any pain from my fall before everything disappeared.

I was on the roof, looking down. The roof was slanted and glass, made up of multiple window panes. It reminded me of an art gallery. The light inside was warm, a welcoming yellow-orange, which contradicted the cold darkness of outside where I was. I was shaking from the cold, the only thing protecting me from the frigid air was a torn-up dress that looked like it was fairly skimpy to start with. The fact it was sopping wet from rain added to my chill, which stirred up memories of home which were quickly pushed aside.

My heart was pounding from being up so high, the height of the building finally registering. For some reason I felt like I could not risk getting caught, which increased my heart rate as a transparent surface was all that was shielding me from the people below. I felt a rushed Unseen rune burning on my arm, but something told me that would do no good. A spike of adrenaline rushed through me as I slipped on the wet, sleek surface of the roof. Desperately trying to find some way to keep myself from falling to my death, I caught a glance of my terrified self in the glass. Hair a frizzy mane, makeup running from precipitation or tears I didn't know. Even my lipstick was smeared, which I would have laughed at given any other circumstance. I looked past my reflection, ignoring the dark night sky that seemed to be pressing in on me.

I had thought the people below me were dancing, or even partying. I looked closer, and noticed the pattern of mingling began to change. People in elegant, sophisticated clothing moved from the centre of the floor, almost clumsily as if this change in formation was not planned. I drew in a breath as the design of the floor was revealed: in the midst of dark, glittering tile was a giant Star of David. It strectched across the floor, the rushed and haphazard paint job making it obvious it was not a part of the original room.

"Tara? Qu'est-ce qui arrive?"

I would have turned to find out where Jacque's voice was coming from, but the scene unfolding in front of me was far more enticing. People came out in bronze robes, the colour I recalled Shadowhunters used to "summon wicked powers". There were six of them, each carrying a lit candle which they set down on the six points of the star. What made me freeze in shock was what the next bronze-clad figures brought in. They shoved a figure forward, bringing it to its knees. Its hands were tied behind its back, and it kept its face hidden behind a dark curtain of hair. She, I realized, was covered in so much blood and bruises her original skin colour was barely decipherable, despite the fact her shredded clothing showed so much of it. A man came around to give her an order, and it was only when she looked up, a flame of strong-willed disobedience burning in her eyes that I felt my heart tear.

Mae.

I sat bolt upright, the feeling of hollowness and desperation not leaving me as it should have. I could feel my face going into an expression it only did when I was alone: sadness. I rubbed my eyes, orientating myself and confirming what had just was not true. The stark white décor of the infirmary was strangely comforting. Just a dream, I told myself.

"Tara? You need to lay back down now, okay?"

I followed the sound of the voice, to a face that was closer than I guessed it would have been. I would have jumped, though I will so disconnected from the world I simply blinked back the surprised expression on my face. "Sylynn?"

"Mae! She's up!" My teenage nurse turned and called. She had a damp cloth in her hand, and a small table set up beside my cot. I tried to take note of its contents- a stele, some herbs, a bowl of water, bandages- though I was interrupted by Mae yelling and hugging me at the same time.

"Jesus fucking Christ! Why did you have to scare us like that? We didn't know if you were going to wake..." her words were so frantic they seemed to blend together, though she slowed to a stop after noticing the confused look I was giving her. "You were out for two whole fuckin days!"

"Oh..." was all I could say with my depleting oxygen supply. Mae was tiny, and she never ususally reached my neck hugging-wise, but sitting down she was threatening to squeeze my neck so tightly I'd die after just having woken up. Sylynn saved me, laughing.

"Dude, take it easy. She just woke up and now she's already the colour of a Smurf."

Mae retracted, but stayed seated on the bed. I proceeded to ask her many questions, which I was surprised she didn't get annoyed with. Apparently everyone else was downstairs back in the library dealing with "the mess". As I slowly became more alert, mentally cringing as reality set in, I noticed the cots were messy. The crisp white bedding of six of them, not counting mine, was crumpled. Mae followed my eyes only to explain how everyone had been sleeping here. It had been a group decision, with Vesper stating the founding rule of "NO PDA". The way she told of us coming together seemed almost touching, though I'm sure the choice was mostly influenced by paranoia. Not that I was accusing anyone- Gennaia's death still posed as a threat for all of us. It could have been a failed assignation attempt on Daniel for all we knew.

Minutes later, via a lot of hobbling and attempted carries by Sylynn, I was leaning against a wall in the library. I would have melted into a chair given I felt like collapsing, however I felt if I touhed anything in this room I would be poisoned. There wasn't any evidence of what had happened in this room almost fourth eight hours ago, except for the blood stains. I pushed away the thought of my friends- family, dealing with something so horrid and toxic while I lay unconscious, weak, useless. A burden.

I came into the room only to be greeted by more hugs. It then occurred to me I was still in the clothes from the...event, and silently thanked the Angel for no one having changed me into a night gown, as protocol was no matter how weird when Gennaia was around. While everyone took their positions around the room again, the distancing between them made it clear the tension had only increased since the event. I could almost feel the weight of it pressing down on me, and was very greatful when Daniel stayed by my side, letting me lean on him so that I didn't have to support all my weight. I didn't want to speak, though it seemed as evertone was waiting for me to.

"So..." I started awkwardly, not sure how to handle the situation. It was usually my place to be joking around and lifting people's spirits, though I didn't want to tick someone off, offend someone, and worst of all, I didn't know how to turn the Head of the Instintue losing her head into a light, laughable subject. I went with a question that had been resting at the back of my mind. "Is the Consul coming?"

No one answered. Everyone was so quiet and distant; I felt like I didn't even know them. I looked around the room expectantly, and the guarded vibes coming off everyone made me want to shrink back behind Daniel. These weren't the people I knew.

Finally, Seth blew out a tiered sigh: "No Tara, the Consul isn't coming. Why the hell would we invite some power-tripped guy here to separate us since 'it's too dangerous'?!" His tone escalated with irritation as he spoke, ending on a mocking note. His arms went around Mae protectively, and I couldn't picture the two of them being apart.

I drew back at his hostility. I was ashamed to admit it, but people's tempers made me...uneasy. I was pretty defenceless, which I hated, and I had seen what happened when people as big as Seth lashed out. My old trainer got very frustrated with my lack of ability very quickly. Things like that affect you even if you don't want them to. Skylar would understand if I ever spoke of what happened, but if I brought it up I felt terrible for complaining. She had had it far worse. So now, as much as I trusted Seth, I had never seen him so wound-up. And it scared me.

However, he brought up a good point. As the thoughts rolled over in my head, I grabbed Daniel's hand to keep me rooted to this room. If the Consul found out about this, we would all be sent back to our original homes. Seth was probably the only one who could return home without fearing what waited for him. The rest of us had come here to escape our sad backstories, and found refuge with each other. All of us could not bear to leave each other. That wasn't even the worst possible outcome: by the Angel, we might suspects. The thought of being tried under the Mortal Sword gave me shivers. We would be forced to tell the truth, and even if we were deemed innocent, the pain of the Sword was unfathomable. But still- how could we handle this?

"Sorry...I just... So what's the plan?" I asked in the smallest voice possible, directing the question to Skylar. I didn't want to set anyone else off, everyone seemed so on edege and rattled.

"We can't go to the Consul, or anyone for that matter. It's too risky. We've got to try and keep this to ourselves, and have got to try and figure out who's behind it, otherwise they remain a threat to us." Right. Us. Crime investigators. Hilarious.

"Sure. So what's the progress you've made on the 'case' so far?" I asked, irritation and mockery leaking into my words, even though I hadn't intented it to sound so rude. Maybe I was far from my normal self too, and just hadn't noticed yet.

To my surprise, Vesper answered. "We've been going through some letters on the desk... You know, see if anyone would want to hurt her. Most of them are in French and we can barely read her goddamn writing, so Jacque's been going through them." I followed her gesture to a chaise placed in a dark corner of the room, where Jacques was keeping to himself so well I hadn't noticed him. The floor around him was scattered with folded, crumpled and few fully intact letters. His dark curly hair was a frizzy untamed mass on top his head, which I believed was from lack of sleep and lack of effort at being well-kept. Needless to say, he looked rather unapproachable. He did not react to the mention of his name, but I was desperate for details.

"Jacques?" I asked quietly, hoping he would elaborate further. The gaze he met my eyes with was virulent, which one would think would be dulled down by his nerdy spectacles and light eyes, but it was only empshasized. He looked so bitchy, and it was yett another time I would have laughed but couldn't.

"For your information Tara, we found out Gennaia is a more shallow, wicked skank than we thought." Woah.

"Oh?" I started, wanting more information but not wanting to press someone who seemed ready to snap. Realizing what I was asking for, he sat up and addressed me as if explaining why the last cookie was gone to a child.

"Turns out Mlle. Gennaia has been having 'meetings' in the library, while they," he gestured to the demon hunters around the room, "were out hunting and we," he gestured between the two of us, "were out. We're not sure what for, but the fact she was completely gaga over the leader of the group is pretty obvious. The more recent letters have gotten pretty demanding-"

"So we were thinking adultery," Vesper put in. I could understand her want for contribution, but now was not the time.

"Yes Vesper," Jacques said, agitation from the interruption plain in his voice. "I'm honestly not surprised. So we're trying to figure out the guy's identity, but we haven't gotten very far. There's not much to work with in these stupid letters... If someone could just find some more evidence from their meetings, we could hunt down and interrogate the bastard before casting him into the abyss-"

"Hold up. Did you guys take a look at these?" I asked, noticing more letters sticking from a drawer behind the desk. I heard Jacques stop his speel of how he wanted to rip our 'suspect' limb from limb, and I broke away from Daniel to investigate. The question faded from my lips as my eyes skipped over the words, realizing they were written in a demonic language. I knew for a fact no one in the room spoke any languages of the sort, and was fairly certain until now that Gennaia hadn't spoken any. That's not what confused me though: why write in a demon language? The people writing this could have used code or some other dying language, but had picked that of all Shadowhunters' sworn enemy.

I pulled out the fragile sheet of paper, being so cautious with it. One smudge of ink could ruin our chance at answers. I tuned out the world, trying to go to the very back of my brain and dust off a language I hadn't used in ages. One by one, my brain managed to stitch together the wrods, leaving me with a fabric that I could actually use. The sheet I was holding seemed to be an invitation. There were directions on it, and I started shuffling in the direction the foreign words directed me. I headed towards the back of the library, sqeezing through the cramped aisles fromed by tall bookcases on either side of me.

The Institute of Paris is not the huge Notre Dame cathedral as many would like to think. It is actually a quaint church hidden in a maze of streets crowded by ignorant mundane tourists. The cathedral is too crowded and frequented for our activities to be successfully concealed in glamours. Because of how small the building is and how popular the city is, most of the place was dedicated to accomadations (which includes one hell of a kitchen me and Sylynn know inside and out) and training facilities for visiting Shadowhunters. This meant the space left for the libarary wasn't much.

The room opened up near the back, with the entire South wall dedicated to windows that stretched up two floors. The building is older on the lower levels, as we've had to expand in the only direction we can over the years: up.

The instructions told me to go to the benches under the windows, then turn around and knock on a set of bookcases tunred back to back, pressed up close against each other. I dashed over, anticipation not letting me go any slower than a jog. I reached the bookcase, and without hesitation, pounded on the wood.

Nothing happened.

Well. That was horribly anti-climatic. Desperate, I called Skylar over. I was graced with not only her presence but everyone's, all rushing to where I was. They had probably mistaken the desperate hope in my voice for the excitement of a legitament discovery. Only Jacques came slowly, making it clear he did not want to move by dragging his feet the whole way.

I frantically explained the situation to Skylar, hoping her attempt would have a more productive outcome. I tripped over my own words I was talking so fast. She nodded, and knocked on the wood with her ear pressed to it.

"It's hollow," she started, the first smile of the day appearing on her face. "We just need to figure out how to break-"

"Oh, for God's sake," Seth muttered, steeping away from Mae. It seems only Daniel anticipated what came next, a warning obvious in his eyes and caught in his throat. Seth knocked down the wood- flinging himself into the paneling with a little too much force. His momentum was not stopped by the wooden barrier, as it catapulted him down a dark set of stairs. We all heard the sickening thud and a crunch, our hope and excitement instantly turning to panic.

"Seth!"


	3. Chapter 3

**Hey sorry this chapter was a little rushed, I really wanted to get it to you guys. PLEASE review, I love hearing from you people so much, all criticism is appreciated. Got an idea for the plot? Tell me that too. (:**

I knew there were catacombs under Paris, but I had never thought there would be something so vast under the Institute.

After Mae ran over to help Seth, who was surprisingly uninjured, the rest of us continued down the stairs. I could feel the oppressing cloud that had hung around the group lift as this breakthrough (literal _breakthrough_ thanks to Seth's impulses,) had both piqued our interests and gave us hope. I went in first, though was quickly shoved past as I stopped and stared. Witchlight torches lit up around the room as they sensed the motion of us intruders. The new light gave me understanding as to why the staircase was so long and deep. The ceiling down here soared, almost competing with the training room. How could we have been so oblivious?

This room was designed like an amphitheatre: rows of seats in aisles that descended to a circular space in the middle of the room, and the nerd inside me thought of the architecture Rome had left behind in France. There was a dais in the middle of the circular space, its markings indistinguishable in the flickering supernatural light. Shadows jumped and grew on the walls, which made me uneasy enough to wait for Mae before venturing further in. Everyone wandered the aisles, tripping over the odd rut in the floor. The floor was a cracked cement after all, that and the antique style of décor gave away this room hadn't been changed since it was built.

The room may not have changed, but it had been used. There was no dust despite the ancient feel of the room, and the odd possession left behind sat in a seat or the floor. There were certain chairs in the aisles that had not been pushed in properly, almost in a rushed manner. I did not have time to fully analyze much else, as there was a sudden scream that broke the silence of our investigation.

Mae, Seth, and I all turned back from where we had been making our way to the dais. We saw everyone running towards an arched opening in the wall, which was lit by more torches. After exchanging worried and confused glances, we wasted no time in hurrying up the stairs and following Jacque's bouncing curls through the aperture and down a hall. The passage seemed unused, with dust coating the torches and cement floor. I could feel why: the compact cement walls arching just a little bit above Seth's head were very constricting and unwelcoming. I caught a glimpse of a spider web on one of the ancient gothic metal torch holders, and shuddered. I _hate_ spiders.

I ran into Daniel. I wasn't paying attention again, I guess. After muttering sorry, I peeked over his shoulder at what was before us. We were in another section of the tunnel, all crowded around Sylynn. She was laughing, which I didn't understand, but it still brought a smile to my face. Maybe she went insane, but at least she's not sad.

"Uh, what the fuck happened here…" Mae was muttering in front of me. Skylar answered smiling, an expression on her face I'd missed.

"Apparently Sylynn is a sissy and just got jump scared by Vesper. I'm not surprised." She took the chance to make a jab at the dark-haired girl.

"Hey!" Sylynn was recovering, and butted in to defend herself. Vesper, on the other hand, was still curled up in a ball dying of hysterics. "I thought it was like, a demon or a ghost or something okay? This place is creepy…" She trailed off.

"Which is why you don't go in dark cement tunnels alone," Jacques put in. We all snickered.

"Okay," Skylar started, trying to put some order back in our search. "Let's get into groups and look for something actually helpful-"

"So Scooby-Doo style?" Daniel commented, grinning. I laughed and shook my head. _Maturity._

"I'm sacred!" Seth called, faking a jump into Daniel arms. He braced himself, ready for the weight of a boy a head taller than him. Seth turned around and snickered at Daniel's mortified expression: "Nah, I'm kidding I don't trust you to hold me."

"Yeah, yeah. Shaggy and Scooby can go that way," Skylar continued with a laugh. "And Jacques, you're the only one I really trust down here so you're coming with me." She started off in the direction we came with Jacques, then turned around. "Vesper, Sylynn do _not_ go together. We don't need any more fake scares."

I tagged along behind the two of them, dragging Vesper with me. I could feel the lifted mood, and was happy the group was light hearted, but splitting up? Ever seen a horror movie?

"Oh come on! I don't want to be stuck with the couple!" Sylyyn cried after us, noticing her group was formed of Seth, Mae, Daniel, and herself.

"You have Daniel! Chill unless you want me to come along too!" I hollered back, beaming as my voice bounced off the rounded walls. I waved at Daniel to make my point, before Vesper hauled me off after Skylar and Jacques.

"So… What are we looking for?" Vesper asked, interrupting the conversation the teens in front of us were having. They turned around, both obviously annoyed. Vesper put up her hands, showing she meant no harm. "Hey! Just wondering-"

I tuned out of the conversation as we passed the goddamn spider again. I stopped, and stared at it. I'm not entirely sure why, but I think it's like watching a horror movie: you get some kind of weird adrenaline rush from the fear in the back of your mind. I'm sure that's why everyone like hunting so much. Teens plus near death experiences plus adrenaline rush? Even I'd join in, but I would get myself killed from lack of training.

The spider's legs moved slowly and with caution, as it tried to make its web. It was almost sad, it was making the best of what it was given, though it would almost definitely starve to death down here. I thought of us and our situation. We were doing the best with what we had, but the circumstances were almost entirely against us. But there was always the slightest chance we'd find something, that the spider would find something to eat.

Out of boredom, I blew on the spider, sending its web to shreds and it tumbling down. I was surprised when it caught itself, and immediately started pulling itself back up. This little guy was relentless. I blew on it again. It went forward, and I forgot about physics and how there would be an equal reaction of the spider coming back at me. It came back, hit me in the face, and I launched into a full on state of panic.

"Get off!" I squealed, running in any direction possible and shaking my head so frantically I ran into a wall. After my dance, that probably looked more like a seizure, had successfully got the wretched thing off, I blinked a few times. I was alone, in a section of the passages I didn't recognize. Scratch that: I couldn't even see.

Well, shit.

"SKYLAR! MAE!" I started. There were no torches here, so I pulled out my witchlight rune stone. I put it in between my teeth, a bad habit I've had since I got the thing as a birthday present. Pulling out my stele, I inked a vision rune on my arm, and blinked again. The fact that I could see didn't help me at all. I was in a room, circular and cement, with a low ceiling and chains hanging from walls. Worse than that, I couldn't see how I had gotten in here, or any way of getting out. The room started feeling smaller by the second, my anxiety making the situation worse by the second. I took my witchlight out from between my teeth to call out, setting it on the floor so it could give ample lighting.

"DANIEL! VESPER! SYLYNN!" I cried out, feeling my heartbeat quicken. _Calm down. Think._ I'd panicked so many times before, I knew how to control it. Mostly. "SETH! JACQUES! ANYONE?" _Distract yourself. Don't think about it. Make yourself useful._

I took a deep breath and held it, like Mae taught me. Blowing it out, I put my stele back in my pocket, and went over to the chains. I would have to distract my mind if I wanted to not end up a ball of anxiety on the floor. I took note that they were metal, black and old like the torch holders. There was crimson on them, dried up so that it chipped off and was reduced to dust in my fingers. I moved the stuff between my fingers, watching it fall to the floor in the dark. Rust? No, there was more of it on the floor in patches. Oh. By the Angel- blood. Why was there blood down here? This was not helping with my anxiety. What was happening below the Institute that I didn't know about? Had I been sleeping while someone was tortured down here?

Whispers made their way to my ears. I had a shiver of fear go down my spine, and I could feel my eyes widen. I ignored it at first, maybe it was like the noises you heard at night in your room all alone: don't acknowledge them, and they won't acknowledge you. I tried to act calm, cover up my shaky voice with a laugh like I normally did. God, it said something about my life that I had a drill for this by now.

"Okay guys, I thought we said no more jump scares right," I called, laughing. I did not move my body one inch out of fear of what I would see. My hands clamped down hard on the metal chains I held in my hands, gripping them so that the cold metal bit at my palms and my knuckles turned white. My breath was shallow and quick, and listened for the faintest sound to tell if it really was who I wanted it to be, or what I really thought it was.

" _You."_ I jumped, whipped my head around, my heart leaping into my throat. The sound echoed off the walls, bouncing around and above me, making me feel cornered and exposed at the same time.

"YOU! Yeah you are…" I started in a joking manner, trying to distract myself by coming up with an insult. I was acting as if my friends were doing this, though deep down I knew they weren't. I was trying to convince myself they were here, that this was fake. That I was safe.

" _Are you here to hurt me too?"_

My eyes darted around the room, as I quickly backed up to a wall to cover my back. I felt more protected that way, it was one place I had scars reminding me to never go back out in the field, in memory of my parabatai. "I'm a Shadowhunter, with the blood of Raziel in my veins, so I could if I wanted to. Lucky for you, I'm feeling nice today." I finished off with another shaky laugh, still in denial. _Oh great, fake confidence. That's your last straw, we all know that. You're not convincing anyone by the way. We can all tell you're close to pissing yourself for God's sake._

 _"I'm a Shadowhunter too, and it was our people who hurt me. Can you tell me why they hurt me?"_ The voice was high and girlish, the kind daddy's girl's used to get what they wanted. I still couldn't see where the voice was coming from, and worse was that I still couldn't see an exit. _Our people who hurt me._ That was the worst crime a Shadowhunter could commit. I hadn't heard of anyone killing each other since Sebastian Morgenstern was around.

"I'm sorry but I'm about as clueless as you are." Another fake laugh. "Why don't you help me out of here and I won't hurt you? _Oh, quivering voice. Nice touch. Let's just say your voice isn't breaking out f-f-fear._

 _"They wouldn't let me out. I didn't even do anything. Why should I let you out?"_

Oh god, why, why, why, why, why….

"Maybe I could help you? Do you want anything, need anythi-"

" _I WANT THEM PUNISHED."_

My hands flew to my ears, almost deafened by the voice. I could feel my pulse racing everywhere, feel my chest tightening with anxiety. I squeezed my eyes shut and shrunk down the wall, coming to rest in a ball of tension and fear. Exactly what I said I wouldn't do. I willed myself to shrink until I disappeared, but knew that wouldn't happen, and kept blabbering on in denial of the danger I was in. "I can do that! You have to help me though! Tell me who, t-t-tell me where a-and I've got a bunch of friends upstairs who are trained to kill who can help and-"

" _I don't want them killed. I want them to suffer, like I did. Tell me they'll suffer, tell me…"_

"They'll suffer! We'll do anything you want-"

 _"They said they would have a party. A party on the day of the solstice. You can find them there, doing what they did to me again… Those thilthy bastards using me for a TRIAL! IT WASN'T EVEN SUCCESSFUL! I DIED FOR NOTHING! NOTHING!"_

I didn't realize that I started screaming. I didn't realize that I was screaming just to block out that wretched voice that had my heart leaping out of my chest. I felt a cold sensation on my hands, like fingers of ice gingerly prying them away from my ears.

"Why are you screaming? I won't hurt you." I kept my eyes shut, still paralyzed and thinking as stupid as a child this thing would leave me alone if I didn't move. _This worked on the monsters when I hid under the blankets, so why not now? Oh god, please work now,_ I though desperately. "If you help me, I won't hurt you," she taunted.

I chanced opening my eyes. The girl in front of me was pale- literally translucent. A ghost. She had wide eyes, with damaged hair pasted to her head, and torn clothes. It was obvious her last days had not been pleasant. She had bright innocent eyes, and was around my age. She had open wounds on her neck and wrists, and I put together the pieces faster than I'd like. The wounds matched the shapes of the chains on the wall, and it was obvious she had been trapped down here, in this very room, against her will. "Come on, I'll show you out. I know how unpleasant this room can be after a while."

She started walking, no, gliding towards an opening in the wall, one that could only be seen from a certain angle. How cruel- the chains were placed in a place where the prisoner would think there was no way out, no way in. They'd go insane with claustrophobia and imagining the possibilities of how they got here. I was more than happy when I was lead down the hall back the light area. I was still very wary of this spirit with such a temper. "Now, they said they'd be at 87 Desjardins Boulevard on the solstice. I would never forget those words. I want you to make them pay, so I can be at rest. Got it?"

"Of course," I assured her, clinging to that address in my mind. I would keep this promise, but I still was itching to run away.

"Come back and tell me when it's done, okay? You know where to find me." She said, drifting back around the corner. I went to look around it, and there was no trace of her. I was grateful she let me go, but there was no way I was going back in there looking for her. I never wanted to see her again after that heart attack.

It took me a very short time to get out of there, once I had found the torch with the remainders of the spider web. I heard my name being called anyway, and followed that. I embraced the open amphitheatre space, glad to be free.

"Tara! Where the fuck have you been?" Mae asked, her eyes landing on me. Everyone paused what seemed to be a search and started over to us. I hugged her, so happy to see her unharmed by the demons of the tunnels.

"I think I actually found something helpful."


	4. Chapter 4

**I'M BAAACK. In other words, November break has started and I have time to stay up until 2 am writing crazy shit! WOOO SLEEP DEPRIVATION!**

 **OH AND my lovely buddy Giantsavour is tryna teach me how to answer my reviews so:**

 **AHEM *fastens newly bought bow tie* Dearest** ** _Bumbling Bunnies,_** **I guess you could say Skylar is in charge, I didn't plan for her to be like the head of the group but she just has the right personality for it. I'M SO SORRY I DIDN'T ANSWER SOONER BRO. THNAK YOU SO MUCH FOR READING LOVE YOU.**

 **Last thing: It has occurred to me that there is a fantastic typo in my previous chapter, but it's so freaking hilarious I'm leaving it 'cause damn.**

 **Without further ado, another chapter of my…interesting fanfic.**

We got out of the creepy amphitheatre as fast as possible. I was paranoid and felt like something was going to throw a knife at my back, so I walked in front of everyone and couldn't help but run up the stairs. Once I was in the familiar, light space of the library, the fact I might be able to help- to _really help_ the people I'd probably be dead without drove me up the stairs and to my room.

"Tara! Where are you going?" Sylynn yelled after me, though no one else bothered to stop me. I acted so crazy all the time, this really was not an out-of-character action for me. Well, maybe the running part.

I shouldered open my door, and searched through the mess on the floor for my laptop, careful not to step on any hair clips hidden beneath a layer of discarded clothes. I heard feet starting to pound up the wooden stairs, and finally caught sight of a shiny black rectangle sitting on the bathroom counter. I already had google up and running by the time everyone had made it into my room.

"There is so much clutter yet so much space in this room…" Jacques started, basically meaning, _this is the most horrendous excuse of a bedroom I've ever seen._ His eyes darted frantically over the heaps of unorganized items. He stayed at the door, not a toe over the edge of the door way as if my room was a toxic waste zone.

"OCD," someone scoffed. I guessed it was Seth.

I typed in the address before I could forget it: _87 Desjardins Boulevard, Paris, France,_ in the search bar. I need to see things to remember them, and had used that visual method to study languages for nearly ten years before Skylar had told me about the possibility of me having a photographic memory. Well, that still didn't help with being a pitiful Shadowhunter, but I'll take whatever I can get.

"What does that help us with-" Vesper said, squinting at the screen. She wore a handkerchief around her neck like a cowboy, though its pattern of skull and crossbones made it fitting. I found it ironic how Skylar and Mae were the two people closest to me on the bed, and the only two who didn't have a completely confused look on their face. Scratch that- they were confused, they just hadn't questioned what I was doing yet.

Results popped up, and I clicked on one that seemed relevant. It was a twitter account for the address, and as I scrolled through I figured out this address seemed to be a party house. There were dates, invitations, and reminders, but nothing that screamed _murdering cult that gets bored of their house and breaks into the Institute of Paris' basement._ That's when I realized that Gennaia must have let them in. Let cruel, strange people into our home while we were oblivious. It made me uneasy, like when you've been robbed and your home just doesn't feel yours anymore.

Before my mind could jump to too horrible of conclusions, a tweet popped up and brought my cursor back to the top of the page.

 _Reminder: solstice party for our members on the 21! Dress nice!_

The tweet had so many overly-cheery emojis in it, it was like a thick coat icing on a rotten cake. The cover up didn't get rid of that awful taste, I knew this wasn't just a party. For all I knew, that girl's death had been a "party" for them.

"We're going to that," I said, stabbing the screen once m thoughts had processed. I looked up to see people reading the tweet for themselves, then the questions flooded in. I forgot no one else had been in that room with me.

"Seriously? A party? You come out of a secret room with no evidence to who killed Gennaia but a _party invitation?_ " Skylar was laughing with skeptism.

I rushed to explain, soaking up the attention I was getting- I'm a bit of a narcissist. I went through the story and mentioned the ghost, my promise, the clues, and left out the bit about me almost pissing my pants. Not that they'd be all that surprised to be honest.

"That's about one week from now," Daniel put in.

"I'm all for invading some party and whoopin' some guy's ass," Mae said, her eyes shining with excitement. Dressing up and beating up people, two of her favourite things. "But, how does that help us exactly?"

I turned to her, grinning. Her ad I were so close sometimes her mood was contagious. Not that that was always a good thing for everyone else. "If we go to this, we can find out who did the stabby-stabby to Gennaia and creepy chick in the basement. Then, we can stabby-stabby that guy and we will be safe and everything will be butterflies and rainbows."

"Okay woah with the stabby-stabby," Jacques finally came in. "I get we're all pumped about this but I'm just going to say murdering this guy right off the bat might not be the best idea. We could actually get arrested."

Right. Murder was bad. I forgot about that. My plan seemed a lot more gruesome when I thought about it.

"I hate to admit it, but Jacques has a point," Skylar started. "We're going to go," me and Mae exchanged excited glances, "but for intel only. _No one_ is dying," she declared.

Sylynn was in a corner, listening intently and now smiling like a dummy like me and Mae. "Could you say that again? I want to record it. We just sound so badass," she finished with a laugh.

"Ho-ly SHIT. This is happening. Woah." Mae was beside me, wearing shoes that passed for dressy but were easy to fight in. I looked back at her, and didn't even have to say anything. I couldn't believe we were actually doing this either.

Throughout the week, we had realized _oh yeah, we're not members, oh yeah, we have no transportation, oh yeah…_ And a list of problems that went on, and on, and on. So in between forcing Vesper and Skylar into dresses we had to sit down and come up with a way to get in a not draw too much attention to ourselves. The final plan had been all the girls and Jacques would have to find connections to get in. Seth and Daniel would stay back and guard the Institute, and Jacques' powers would probably come in useful throughout the night.

It was the seventeenth, the Saturday before the twenty first. Taxis had dumped us out on the street that lead to a bar that was frequented by members of the shadow world. I had to hold on to Mae's arm, as my heels were essentially stilts and my balance was horrible to begin with. We couldn't draw attention to ourselves at the party, but tonight was all about getting attention.

Essentially, we had decided that on a Friday night one of us girls with the help of a few drinks we could get a guy…or girl…or faerie, werewolf, vampire, warlock, or Shadowhunter or _someone_ to be drunk enough to invite us.

"You look like a hooker," Jacques commented, surveying our group with a smirk on his face.

"Does everything looks like a hooker to you?" I shot back, having heard this insult from Jacques many times before. It didn't help that yeah, I was a little under aged and had put a dash of makeup on here and there. And yeah, my outfit showed off…a lot. But whatever, these guys went pretty and normal, someone had to go slutty. I was going to have to shoot myself because I kind of enjoyed it. I told myself it was confidence I was getting from all the lingering stares.

"He's right you know," Vesper joined in, teasing. Pretty much everyone agreed.

We started walking in, and Skylar went over the plan again. "Okay, so we are _socialising_ , or in Tara's case just straight up stripping," I glared at her, even though I couldn't help but laugh with everyone else, "to try and get someone to get us into that party. And remember, stay close 'cause this place can be dangerous and is probably full of creeps."

"Aw, come on what's a night out in Paris without a little danger?" Vesper said, adrenaline practically leaking into her voice. Her bouncy jittery state spread to Mae and Sylynn and Skylar, and I remembered that for the four of them- Vesper, Sylynn, Skylar, and Mae- this was probably routine after all the little "hunting" trips they were sent out for. I couldn't help but feel a twinge of sadness at knowing what I missed out on. I remembered Jacques was out of his element too, but that didn't help much.

"A night that doesn't exist in our lives," Skylar sighed, but you could tell she wouldn't have it any other way. She stopped us as we rounded a corner and came face-to face with the entrance. I didn't need to put in any effort to peel away the glamour on the place. There were neon signs covering nearly every inch of window space, and black paper covering the windows. You could see flashing lights behind the curling edges of the paper, and could already hear the roar of the place over the street noise. "Also, _don't drink ANYTHING._ "

She pushed the door open, and we were in.

In for my first taste of the real world.

 **Sorry this chapter is super short, but I swear there's more coming soon! Next one will be longer I promise (: PLEASE REVIEW I LOVE YOU PEOPLE THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR READING!**


	5. Chapter 5

**I told you I'd update soon. And, I also told you this chapter would be longer. Well, as promised: the longest chapter yet. I tried to make this one super-light hearted, so ENJOY!**

 **As always, please review. Even if it's hate. I really just want to hear what people think. THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR READING, LOVE YOU, AND WITHOUT FURTHER ADO, ZE NEXT CHAPTAR!**

June 17, 2016.

The bar was loud. Like, rock-concert loud. There were tables where people sat with their drinks to one side, and to the other a dance floor and a live DJ. At the back of the room there were bathrooms and a counter where two or three bartenders were moving so fast it seemed as if they had four arms. One of them _did_ have four arms, but minor details.

After entering, I looked at the group and broke off to sit at a table with Mae. We went for one right in the middle of the setup, and squeezed into one side of the booth. This way, it seemed more likely people would sit down with us. It took a total of five seconds before Mae seemed bored.

"We should call someone over," I suggested, yelling at her even though she was right beside me.

It took her a minute, which meant I probably wasn't loud enough. It would take a while for our ears to adjust to the skull-throbbing bass. Luckily, her lip-reading talents came in useful, and she scoured our surroundings, and pointed at a guy on the dance floor.

"He's hot. I wouldn't mind if he came over."

I couldn't argue. Dark spiked up air, thick black frames, tall, lean, sharp-ass jawline, Jesus: what more could you ask for? He reminded me of the American Spiderman in the movies Vesper had forced me to watch. She was obsessed with the heroes from companies like Marvel. I suddenly liked those heroes a little more.

A girl slid into the booth across from us. She had flowers in her hair, which was elegantly braided off to the side. A faerie, I guessed. I wondered how she was allowed in here after the mass betrayal they pulled a few years ago. They were still unforgiven, it was one of the most despicable events in the history of the Shadow World.

"Look at the little Shadowhunters. All dressed up to actually seem intimidating," she taunted. "I can't tell, did someone punch you in the face or is that just _really_ bad makeup?"

Mae opened her mouth to say something, but I beat her to it.

"How did you even get in here?" I asked, calmer than I should be.

"What? You mean how hard was it to sweet-talk the owner? In that case, not very."

"No, I was just very concerned the iron doorknob may have burned your _hand,_ " I said, and slammed my hand down on fragile twig like fingers. There was a burning sound, followed by a scream. She jerked her hand back, caressing it close to her chest. She looked at me like she couldn't believe what just happened.

"You _bitch,"_ she snarled. "You will fucking pay," she warned, before getting up and disappearing towards the back of the room.

" _Tara!"_ Mae exclaimed. I was afraid I'd get in trouble, I'd never been so mean to anyone before.

"I'm sorry- she's a traitor, and she was insulting us-"

"That was awesome! How did you-" Mae started, beaming with pride. It wasn't the reaction I'd expected, but it was definitely a favourable one.

I smiled, her cheerfulness contagious. I held up my hand: "Family ring," I explained. "Iron."

Skylar came over, slid into the booth, and everyone else followed suit. "What the heck happened over here?

"Tara just burned some faerie bitch," Mae explained, an evil smile on her face. We shared the same overly-excited expression.

"No," Skylar started mock-scolding us, her voice serious but her eyes light. "No burning people on your first night out as a part of the team." She smiled, and I could tell she actually didn't mind us getting a little sidetracked for a bit.

"Ten bucks says Tara's the only one who can't complete the mission," Vesper put in, keeping the conversation going.

"Hey! I am fucking irresistible. I can totally get some guy to give me a stupid ticket…" I started to defend myself, still smiling and joking.

"Your voice goes up three octaves when you're talking to Daniel, and it's probably worse when it's a guy you don't even know. I don't think guys find voice cracks all that attractive." Skylar observed.

"Maybe one day she'll find a guy who has more voice cracks than she does," Sylynn speculated, using her hands as if she could see the future between them.

"That'll probably be when she's forty, being a cougar and raping twelve year olds," Jacques said. A little dark but even I laughed at that.

"If she lives 'til forty," Sylynn said, causing the group to smile. The joke flew over my head, and I was so confused.

"What's that supposed to mean?" I asked, wanting to enjoy the joke too.

"Nothing, just that you have no muscle, and can't even use a dagger properly," Vesper explained teasingly.

"Yeah, well I don't need a dagger or muscle to complete this mission," I started getting defensive. I don't know why, I knew they were just messing around. Maybe it was because it was my first time out in the field with them, and that made it seem like I was just dead weight. I didn't want to be a burden. I wanted to prove I was actually a Shadowhunter, one that could complete missions like they did. "Watch and learn," I said, and sauntered off to the bar.

I sat at the bar alone, trying to look as lonely as possible. Some poor guy had offered to buy me a drink already, but I had got rid of him. He seemed sketchy, like homeless-guy-who-snuck-in kind of sketchy, and he had no idea what I was talking about when I brought up the twenty-first. I started stirring the ice in a used glass idly, getting hopeless with my mission.

"You look like you could use a hug!" I heard some guy with a squeaky voice call. _Oh lord._ I turned around, praying he wasn't talking to me. Thankfully, he was so drunk he was talking to the bleach blonde bartender, and was nearly toppling over as he came off the dance floor.

"For the twentieth time Haiden, take your drink and go." She said dismissively, though the smile that showed off her needle-like incisors said she didn't mind the attention. She slid the drink down the counter, past me. Haiden took the drink winked at the bartender, then at me, and went back out to dance. As he went back out, another guy clapped him on the back, beaming. I recognized him as the one Mae had pointed out earlier: dark hair, glasses. _Do NOT fuck this up,_ I ordered myself, noticing he was coming in my direction.

He came up and ordered, flashing a grin at the vampire bartender.

"Thanks love," He got his drink then turned around. _You've got to be kidding me. An accent? Are you_ trying _to make this as difficult as possible?_

Instead of leaving, he leaned back against the bar and sipped at the cyan concoction in his hand. He waved to a group of people, which I identified as a pack of werewolves who had welcomed Haiden into their circle. He didn't seem like a werewolf, but they were cheering him on as he attempted to slowly descend into the splits.

"Hey," I called, looking up from my glass. To my surprise, he actually heard me. He looked up, the glint of neon lights off his glasses nearly blinding me. Now was my chance. "You going to the party on the twenty-firstt?" I asked, gesturing towards him with the glass I was holding, trying to imitate the easy confidence I saw coming off the girls he had been standing with.

"The solstice? Don't your type think that's some sort of doomsday?" I could tell he was joking, but still my _type?_ What was that supposed to mean? That's when I noticed the lack of runes on his arms, which seemed bare compared to the dark symbols that covered me from head to toe. He didn't have a family ring either, and I couldn't help but feel a little disappointed. Not a Shadowhunter.

"Ha-ha. Hilarious." I said smiling, trying to play off the insult. "Seriously," I hit him on the shoulder. "Are you going? I need help finding a date." By the Angel, Jacques was right. I even sounded like a goddamn hooker.

"I know she's going." He pointed to a girl in his group. "But, if you're into guys… how 'bout Haiden? He's going, and look at those moves." I laughed as we both took a moment to watch Haiden try to do the worm, but he ended up looking like he was going into convulsions instead. "All the ladies," the guy beside me said, grinning as his friend was pulled out of the circle by one of the girls. "We are talking 'bout the one at the Day-garday place right?"

I couldn't help but laugh at the way he butchered the name. Obviously he was a tourist, if he couldn't even say one of the city's addresses properly. "Yes, the party at 87 _Desjardins_ Boulevard." I corrected, smiling more than I should have. I took a moment to look out across the bar, and spotted my group. Mae was making her way over, while the twins and Skylar were dying of laughter and pointing at me. I wasn't that horrible of a flirt was I? Who was I kidding, I could hear my own voice creeping up octave by octave when I talked to this guy.

"You sure my date isn't gonna be hungover come the twenty-first?" I said, trying not to get side tracked. I _needed_ to get invited to this thing, I couldn't let tonight be a complete failure. I had to prove I was useful for something, otherwise I'd be stuck in that library forever. The guy laughed.

"Hey, if he is, I'll carry 'im in. I think he likes you." We watched as Haiden ran over to Mae. Her red dress sure got her a lot of attention. "Or maybe not." He offered Mae his drink, and she looked equal parts disgusted and on the verge of dying of laughter as he made her hold it, got on the ground and gave her a show of his break dancing. "Oh my fucking god, he is SO wasted," Spiderman said, laughing and shielding eyes with one hand. I was too busy laughing at Mae and her weirded out look as she left Haiden, who was too wrapped up in his dance to notice her departure.

After I recovered from laughing so hard, I tried to bring up the party again. "So you are going right? My date looks like he needs someone to hold his leash at a fancy place like that," I said, remembering the pictures of the high-end house on the twitter account.

Without a moment's notice, Spiderman reached by me, and I flinched. I guess it's an instinct you get after being someone like me in a world like this. I noticed after the fact he was going for my phone. He stopped after he grabbed it: "I'm not going to hurt you," he said, noticing my reaction. "Password?" he continued, holding up a keypad on my phone's screen, shrugging off the serious moment with the smile of a thief.

"Look who you found," Mae came up, looking between me and… I realized I didn't even know this guy's name. I took the phone from him as she introduced herself, taking the moment of distraction to type in my extensively long password.

"One of those people, huh?" He said, noticing how long it took. I didn't realize the two of them had been watching. Hey, I've got a memory, why not put it to use?

"Yeah," I smiled, about to give him my phone. "Wait, why should I give you my phone again?" I asked, playfully holding the device away.

"Do you want my number or not?" He said, holding out his palm, grinning tauntingly.

I looked at Mae.

Mae looked at me.

Without words we both said, _HOLY SHIT._

It worked. By the Angel, it worked.

"Fine," I said, recovering from my moment of shock, but acting like it was no big deal. He took the phone, leaned against the bar, and started typing.

"Did that just happen?" Mae asked. "Do you SEE how hot he is? Did you HEAR that accent?"

"I know, I know, I know," I said excitedly, ready to bounce off walls, unsuccessfully trying to fangirl with Mae without him noticing.

He handed back my phone, and Mae and I pulled our act together. I looked at the contact, then up at him.

"Corn?" I repeated what I read in the first name slot. Mae snorted, extremely ladylike, behind me.

"Coen." He corrected, taking the phone and changing the letter. "Stupid autocorrect. I'll see you at the party…"

"Tara," I supplied. "Tara Nightwalker." I held up my family ring, which showed no trace of having being used as a weapon. I showed the pattern of moon phases around the ancient band.

"Tuesday! See you then!" He called as way of greeting as he finally disappeared back into the group I suspected was his pack, given he wasn't a Shadowhunter. I suddenly had a new appreciation for the new lack of bad blood between Shadowhunters and Downworlders.

"Did you just get into the party?" Mae asked, still dazed.

"I think so… Looks like you did too," I said as Haiden came back over to get another glass after he lost the one he gave to Mae.

He came up beside us, and sat down on a barstool beside Mae. He ordered, then turned to Mae, and didn't blink. He put his hand next to Mae's.

"You dropped this."

I started laughing and looked away as Haiden continued to stare at Mae. It was so scary and weird, I found it hilarious for some reason.

"Excuse me?" She asked, in an I-dare-you-to-keep-going tone.

"You dropped it. Now you have to pick it up." He said, moving her hand with his free one so that they were holding hands. "Was that so hard?"

I wish you could have seen the look on her face, dear God, I was laughing so hard I was sure I'd been drugged.

"Do it for the party, Mae," I reminded her while gasping for air. As funny as this was, this was her chance to get in.

She looked at me, blew out an exasperated breath, and turned to Haiden, whose eyes were still as wide as saucers. "I'm Mae." She said, completely unimpressed.

"No." He started, and Mae gave him a questioning look. "You're google, because I've finally found what I've been searching for."

She looked back at me, a pleading look in her eyes: _Do I have to?_

I nodded and continued giggling in my place.

"Since I'm the best thing that's ever happened to you, you'd better bring me to the party on the twenty-first, right?"

Haiden looked so happy and shocked that his little pick-up lines had "worked". He beamed: "I better give you my number for insurance purposes, since I fell for you."

Rolling her eyes, Mae handed over her phone. "Does he practice these in the mirror or something?"

"You should ask him. I'm guessing he does."

"I can't wait for Seth to hear about this." We both looked at Haiden, then each other, and started laughing. His scrawny pale arms wouldn't stand a chance against Seth. There wasn't one rune on him, and I couldn't pick out _what_ he was, which was strange. Haiden handed back Mae's phone.

"Text me babe," he said, purposefully lowering his voice so that he sounded like Elvis. Then he staggered back off into the crowd, already having forgotten about his new drink. "I HAVE A DATE FOR TUESDAY!" He screamed, raising his hands in the air as a sign of victory. His group cheered, and me Mae descended into hysterical laughter, again.

"TARA!" Someone grabbed me by the shoulders. I jumped, and my hand went to a Seraph blade hidden under my clothes as I spun around. The weapon wouldn't have done me much good anyway, it had been years since I had last used one. I didn't need to unsheathe the runed blade though- I simply came face to face with Jacques, who was standing a little to close in an attempt to scare me. Well, should have seen that coming.

"Someone's jumpy," Skylar noticed. Vesper snickered at how sloppily I had went for my only weapon.

"Okay my bestest friends," Sylynn said, her words slurred. She hooked her arms around me and Mae. "Time to journey back to our residence." I looked at Skylar, Vesper, and Jacques for an explanation as to why Sylynn was talking like an uneducated person from the Victorian Era.

"She had to chug a whole glass of a vampire drink to get her ticket!" Skylar shouted over the change in music, which I had thought my ears had gotten used to. "It was a bet with some werewolf!"

"She's waaaaaasted," Vesper mouthed, to clarify. I nodded and laughed, as we started towards the door.

"MAE!" Our whole group spun around. It was Haiden, full-on sprinting with open arms towards the little Brazilian girl on the other side of Sylynn. He wrapped his arms around her, nearly spilling _another_ drink on her dress.

"By the Angel, what do you want?!" She grunted, struggling to get out of his surprisingly tight embrace.

"My mum told me to chase my dreams," Haiden said, looking at the roof as if it were a sky full of stars, and he was at the end of a dramatic movie.

"Cool. Let go, now." Her tone was threatening.

Haiden let go, a little taken aback by her seriousness. "Feisty. I like that. And I forgot your tickets. One for you," he said, his voice cracking on _you._ He handed one ticket to Mae, another to me. Starting to giggle, he finished, "And one for you. That's from Coen by the way. See you later my SEXY SHADOWHUNTER SUGAR!"

"Um…" Jacques looked genuinely terrified as Haiden melted back into the crowd. I was proud I hadn't needed his magic to get invited.

"Sexy Shadowhunter Sugar? How many drinks has that guy had?" Vesper asked, sharing the same what-did-I-just-witness look as Jacques.

Mae couldn't answer. "What the fuck..." She managed to get out, crying she was laughing so hard.

Skylar hailed a cab, keeping on task as everyone told stories about their experiences. Later, I trudged in through the door of the Institute (which I had to get Sylynn and Vesper to open for me, it was so heavy in my tired state) around three in the morning. I looked at the stairs, where Mae had one foot on a step, her head resting on her arm on the rail, and was complaining about the effort it would take to walk all the way up to her room. I decided to shuffle straight into the dining room, where there was an overstuffed couch pushed up against one wall for decoration.

I laid down, pulling a mat off the floor and using it as a blanket. I fell asleep before I saw everyone else settle. Listening to the hushed voices, I smiled. After worrying so much about our situation, I looked at the people I had to help me through this, and realized something.

 _It's going to be okay._

I could not have been more wrong.


	6. Chapter 6

**Who else looooooves when their computer restarts twice for no reason, and they lose all their writing twice? No one! Fuck you, Windows.**

 **As usual, please review, and thanks for reading! Last chapter was all light and fun, so time to get serious...**

I woke up to a burning smell. My first thought was that the Institute was burning down. Luckily, the smell wasn't like burning wood, but rather burning meat. Bacon, I realized. There was a loud metallic scraping, and then clanging as if someone was raiding the kitchen. I jerked up, the noise grating my ear drums. Had someone gotten up to cook? Or was someone trying to rob us… _and_ cook? Knowing our group, the second option was more likely. No one would be nice enough to cook for anyone else, except for Sylynn, but I was guessing she was horribly hungover after last night.

I rubbed the sleep out of my eyes, willing the blurriness from makeup residue out of my eyes. I pushed myself off the couch and into a standing position, wincing as I heard a resounding _crack_ from all my joints. I suppose I deserved that from sleeping on such a tiny couch. The shuffling and clanging in the kitchen stopped, and I realized by stretching I gave myself away. It was too early for me to feel panicked, though I knew I had to arm myself against a potential threat. I surveyed the room, looking for something. My eyes landed on the silver cutlery set out perfectly on the immense mahogany table occupying the room. I went for a knife, and my vision blurred over.

 _Oh fuck,_ I thought as sudden dizziness clouded my head. _Head rush Tara, you're fine._ I fumbled around blindly for the knife, finally clutching it in my hand as I regained my balance. My stumbling was just more clues for the intruder, but I was too dazed for the threat to truly sink in. In my half-asleep state, the only motivation I could muster to investigate was thinking _this motherfucker woke me up, he's gonna get a knife in the back for breaking in and wrecking my sleep._

I dragged myself to the door of the kitchen, an area just off the antique-decorated dining room. I peered around the doorframe. I held the knife behind me, how I remembered I was forcefully taught in the nightmare training sessions when I was younger. I peered around the corner. There was a dark figure, standing between one of the many prep tables of the kitchen (the kitchen was also designed to accommodate masses). It was a dark figure, hoodies and sweats hiding its form. A sword dangled lazily from its one hand.

The wretched aging floorboards gave me away. The figure whipped its head around, and I jumped into an attempted defensive position, blade at the ready.

"Oh my fucking God put that down!" Seth yelled at me, his eyes going wide. "I do NOT trust you with that!"

 _Oh_. Not an intruder. I slowly lowered the knife. "To be fair, I don't trust you in the kitchen."

"Yeah, well it's noon, and no one's cooked for me yet." He shrugged, lifting the sword as if it weighed as much of a badminton racket.

"And you have your sword why...?" I asked, taking note that his weapon that he held as casually as a pen was etched with the design of his family ring, and a large "A" forged out of metal at the hilt.

"I couldn't find the knives to cut bacon," he explained. I'm surprised his answer wasn't _for the hell of it_.

"Right. Love having the residue of ichor on my breakfast, the way it burns your throat form the inside out; mmm." I snapped back sarcastically.

He raised his hands in surrender. "Well, SORRY. Just don't eat it the- Shit!" he yelled, dropping his sword as a pot of water across the room stated to boil over. I did not want to know what he was attempting to cook in that.

"Okay… try to not burn down the place, will you." He didn't acknowledge my comment, having burned himself trying to move the pot. He had moved to a sink across the room where he stood running his hand under cold water, making a constant AGHHH sound while shaking out his hand. "Your girlfriend is where, I might ask?"

"Upstairs," he pointed up with his free hand. I turned down the heat on the burner, and got ready to heave myself upstairs.

***  
After washing my face, I found Vesper first. She was in the training room, as expected. The loud thud of axes and things hitting targets made her location very obvious. She was an early riser, but how bored had she been to come down here, rather than watch mundane movies?

"Hey," I called after she had finished throwing her set, and gone to pull the weapons out of the wood, each exactly on target. I wished I could do that. She looked back at me.

"She lives!" I smiled. "Did you come to tell me that there's crepes ready downstairs?" She asked hopefully.

"Ha, no. Seth's tryna cook downstairs, but I don't think anyone wants to eat that." She snickered in agreement. "I came to get you for a breakfast with _everyone._ I'll make you crepes if you'll come."

"Fine. Hold this," she said abruptly, dumping the weapons of iron and _adamas_ in my arms. I stumbled, and she laughed at me, taking them back before dumping them on the wooden floor beside the door. "You have got to let me train you. Look at these! Skin and bone!" She exclaimed, gesturing to the sticks I used for arms. I rolled my eyes, and she escorted me out of the room in a headlock to gather the others. I got one glimpse of the pool- the only sort of training I did. The water cleared my head, and no one had ever forced me to swim. I looked back longingly.

"Oh come on, food first, swim later," Vesper said, ushering me up the stairs.

About an hour later, we all sat at the dining table. It was the first formal breakfast since the _disruption_ in our everyday affairs. It was happy enough, our group had come down laughing as we attempted to haul an ever-complaining Sylynn down the stairs. Vesper and I had woken everyone up. When we pulled back her hungover sister's curtains, she had hissed and rolled off the bed like a vampire. As we sat at the table, everyone shared stories form the bar. Sylynn simply sat in her chair with her head buried in her arms, groaning and clutching a cup of coffee. Others told her story for her, we had to clarify what had passed before we could start planning for Tuesday.

"On a scale of one to ten, how tiered is everyone?" I put in to the conversation, over a mouthful of bacon that I had remade for myself. A chorus of answers rang back, mostly complaining why I had woken anyone up. Jacques just gave me a look: _seriously?_ He must have slept terribly, we found him collapsed in the entry way after I'd walked past him twice, oblivious. Tuning out of the conversation again, I did what any teenager did. I pulled out my phone.

I opened Snapchat, and started giggling at the images Sylynn had sent me. There was us, trying to get in through the door, an absolutely dysfunctional mess of a team. There was everyone on their way upstairs, a video of Seth laughing as he carried a tiered Mae upstairs against her will, Daniel laughing as he and Vesper tried to get a very intoxicated Sylynn to follow suit. I must have already been sleeping by then, given I was not in any of the photos. By process of elimination, I concluded Skylar was taking the pictures since she too hadn't been in any. I didn't question my conclusion she had taken the phone from excessively bubbly and clumsy Sylynn. If Skylar wasn't a child of the Nephilim, she'd be a child of Hermes. The awkward angles of the pictures was questionable, but I didn't think too much about it.

Then there were a few of just the stairs, with the sky getting lighter through the windows of the dining room on the left with each shot. You could tell time was passing, us having gotten in at three in the morning, the sun must have started rising not soon after. I was a little confused why Skylar would snapchat me a picture of the Institute's deserted staircase, but hey. It must get really boring having insomnia and being the only one awake, so I didn't question her entertainment choice. I clicked through the images.

Then there was one of me sleeping. And another, and another. All from different angles. I had to admit, I looked _ridiculous_ with my messed up hair and makeup smeared across my face. Then there was another, with the caption _disposable._ That stung. It was like salt on a fresh wound. I was reminded with every successful mission how I wasn't needed, and had told Skylar exactly how I felt when the clouds rolled over in my mind. Why would she poke at me like that?

"Okay Skylar, was this really necessary?" I asked, swiping down to pause the stream of photos and looking up.

"What?" she answered, breaking of conversation with Jacques and Seth. She looked down the table to my spot at the very end. She registered the look on my face, and how I held up my phone accusingly. Rushing over, she came behind me to look at the screen. "What did I do now?"

" _Disposable?"_ I supplied. "That's just rude." I pulled out a screenshot of the snap and showed her. I looked to her for an explanation. The look on her face was offended.

"Dude… that wasn't me."

I believed her. So my next logical conclusion was that Jacques had managed to figure out snapchat, which was unlikely, but possible. It would make sense- he was collapsed in the entryway, he probably had Sylynn's phone passed to him, and gotten bored so decided to creep me out. I called him over too.

"Care to explain your weird fetishes?" I asked, showing him the picture. "Any particular reason you wanted to insult sleeping me?"

He looked at the picture through his glasses. "What…what are you talking about exactly?"

Rolling my eyes, I opened snapchat, and tapped the purple square beside Sylynn's name. A video of Jacques playing with my hair, with the caption _oblivious_ played as the three of us watched. I was about to turn to Jacques for an explanation, but an image of him sleeping in the entryway showed up.

 _Hold up._ My mind drew a blank as the curveball showed up.

A video of _someone_ playing with Jacque's hair played next, again the caption was _oblivious._

"Hey, was that you?" He turned to Skylar, smiling. "I was gonna punch you for that."

Skylar smiled back, oblivious of my confusion. "No, it wasn't me. Ask them," she gestured to the table of who she thought were potential suspects. Only, they weren't suspects. They had been in the prior images, and Skylar didn't know that yet. They couldn't have done this.

A chill went down my spine, as things refused to add up. I stopped the video. I quickly got Jacques and Skylar's attention, and explained what I'd seen. I spoke so fast and was so nervous I tripped over my own words a few times. The two of them quickly lost their joking attitude. I could see in their eyes they were searching for a rational explanation. When neither of them came up with one as fast as I'd like, I called everyone else down to where I sat at the head of the table. Well, Sylynn didn't move, being wasted and all.

"Anyone know what happened to Sylynn's phone last night?" I asked them.

"Doesn't she have it?" Vesper questioned. Thanks captain obvious.

"No, but her phone has been sending me snapchats of you," I indicated the five who had been in the picture, "on the stairs when we first came in, then later pictures of me and Jacques sleeping."

Everyone thought out the problem in their heads, coming to the same conclusion I had at first. Insommnia, hadn't been in the photos: the logical suspect was Skylar. Everyone looked at her accusingly.

"It wasn't me!" She exclaimed, raising her hands as if to show she was unarmed.

"That doesn't make any sense," Vesper muttered. Again with the obvious.

"I'm well aware it doesn't make sense!" I shot back at her, getting annoyed in my frantic state, already feeling the ropes of anxiety and panic wrap around my lungs. I took a deep breath to clear the frenzy out of my mind. "Okay, I haven't watched the rest, but we're all gonna watch and just see who this was. If one of you isn't 'fessing up 'cause this is some grand prank on me, _I will fucking strangle you_." I finished, remembering when the group had played along to trick me into thinking that Skylar had started slitting her wrists. That was cruel. I hadn't slept for a few nights because I simply didn't know what to do, which was horrifying. I always had ideas and answers, but then I was lost and left to fretting. I never got angry really, and Seth and I were always the ones joking around and were never serious. But if I was serious about something, _you didn't joke about it._

I opened the stream of photos. Another picture of Jacques was the first to surface, this time with the caption _disposable._ Okay, so the insult had not been tailored specifically to me.

"What the hell is that supposed to mean?" Jacques said, though no one acknowledged his comment. We were all focused on the next video, one of the _person_ starting up the staircase. There was a picture of the landing that lead off to the second floor, where the training room and pool were. Then there was a picture of the third floor, where all the bedrooms were, though most were empty.

A video popped up, and I rushed to push the volume to the max, everyone silent as we desperately listened for any sign of who this was. A thought popped into my mind which I immediately regretted thinking. What if this was Gennaia's killer, scaring us for fun before we all got killed? Was the food we were eating poisoned? Were there traps set in our own home we didn't know about?

Another video. The person turned into the first room on their left in the long hall. We all knew, as every room of the Institute was familiar to us (except the newly discovered basement, of course) that it was Mae's room. The video stopped as the person stepped over the threshold. A photo of Mae appeared, lying on top of the blankets, completely passed out. In the darkness her hair was the same dark colour as her runes. The scars and marks that twined around her arms and neck- strength, accuracy, angelic power- gleamed in the moonlight as if warnings to the intruder. Another image of her from a different angle appeared, with the caption _the first to go_. I heard Mae shift her weight behind me.

There was a video as the person moved onto the next room. Seth's. He too was asleep in the next image, sword shining on the floor as his arm dangled off the bed, fingers inches from the blade. Another picture of him, _the second to go._

Vesper's room was next. There was no one in it, which was odd. The person simply moved in to Sylynn's room, across the hall. There the twins were both sleeping. Sylynn was in an awkward position, as she probably hadn't moved since Vesper and Daniel had dumped her there. There was an image of her too, fairly close up, with the caption _the third to go._ The camera moved to Vesper, who sat slumped against her sister's bed on the floor. _The fourth to go._

The next image was Daniel, the person wasting no more time on videoing their travels down the hall. An image of him sleeping, with his parabatai rune on his arm standing out. My hand went to my own rune, on my ribs. A small spark of sadness came up inside me as I remembered it was nothing more than a scar now, a visual reminder of what I'd lost. The next image of Daniel had the caption, as predicted, _the fifth to go._

The next image was of Skylar. She was fast asleep, which I hadn't been expecting. The image of her was solid evidence that no resident of the Institute had done this. That all of us had been photographed, watched, and taunted by an outsider while we slept. The caption on her picture was _the last to go._

The stream of photos ended, and I blew out a breath I hadn't realized I'd been holding. Before I could look up at everyone's horrified expression, another snap came in from Sylynn. I glimpsed over at her, just in case it had been her this whole time and she was sitting at the table watching our reactions and laughing. Instead, she was in the same positon she had been in, her head resting on her arms.

"Should I?" I asked, looking back at the faces of varying degrees of unease behind me. Mae nodded, her eyes unfocused and her chin resting on her hand.

It was an image of us, gathered at the end of the table around the phone. Exactly as we were. This image had been taken _now._ The caption was read:

 _See you Tuesday._


	7. Parties, Clues, and a Bigger Problem

**This is the part I've been waiting to get on paper for months, maybe since July. I'm sorry this has taken so long... for one I was a perfectionist, then gave up because I just wanted to post. Hope you guys like it! As always, comment and vote!**

 _June 21, 2016: The Solstice._

We walked up to the house together. After the threats from a few days prior, we had considered not going to the party; but we didn't have a backup plan. So, Sylynn and Vesper had went to work covering up everyone's runes with tons of makeup. It was an effort at having less chance of being recognized, and potentially killed. We had the Institute locked down as best we could, and had searched every inch for our stalker. Every trace and theory said the only reason he or she had made in was because we had let them, and that they had disappeared off the grounds. We knew leaving the Institute unguarded was a terrible idea, but justified our absence by saying no one could get in without the gates being opened for them.

Everyone was coming. Our chances of finding anything were far higher if everyone was searching. Mae was on my left, arm in arm with Seth, and Daniel was on my right. Skylar, Vesper, Sylynn, and Jacques were in a line behind us making gagging noises and remarks about couples. Together, we walked down the street surrounded by other people dressed similarly: dark clothes that showed a little too much on some people. The building loomed ahead of us, music blaring from inside the gates.

"Is that a _bank?_ " I asked Mae, taking in the grandness of the building. It seemed like a mansion, pristine white and so massive and complex I would probably get lost in it.

"Okay, everyone knows the plan right?" Skylar asked from behind us. It seemed to be her role to keep the missions running smoothly out in the field.

"Yeah, yeah, we've heard it about a thousand times," Seth complained.

"I don't care. We can't risk anyone messing up," Skylar shot back. "We're going in to find the identity of Gennaia's killer so we can eliminate the threat to us, the program, and put that creepy girl in the basement to rest so we can all sleep at night. We are _not_ killing anyone," she put emphasis on this and looked at Vesper, Seth, and Daniel. "We are simply getting the clue, meeting back at the gates and leaving. We'll come up with our lovely murder plot later."

"Wait," Jacques said, analyzing the plan in his head. "If we're looking for the identity of the person or people who killed Gennaia, because we're at risk of them killing us, why are we going to their party? Doesn't that seem like we're walking right into their hands?"

"Well, we're here now," Daniel said over his shoulder.

He was right. We walked into the entryway, which opened up to a giant crowded room, which was dark and could have passed for a ballroom. The only lighting came from the glass ceiling overhead, which let the moon shine in. There were also flashing neon lights, which were harsh in comparison to the pale natural light. I saw Daniel melt into the crowd, and had already lost the four people who were behind me moments ago. I kept pushing forward, sticking close to Mae. We were supposed to split up to cover more ground and be less noticeable, but I wasn't ready to go out on my own yet.

"BAE!"

I jumped and looked to the source of the yell. Unsurprisingly, there was Haiden pushing his way through the crowd, bug eyes glued on Mae.

"Shit... Hide me..." She muttered, trying to hide behind me and Seth. It was too late. Haiden came up in front of us, and started to talk to Mae over me and Seth.

"You made it! And you brought your friend... Hey, where are those sexy runes?" He noticed, looking her up and down.

" _What_ did you just say?" Seth asked, looking at the spangly boy trying to hit on his girlfriend.

"Mae, who... who is this?" Haiden asked nervously, sizing up the Spanish Shadowhunter in front of him.

Mae laughed and answered innocently: "Oh, this is my plus-one. I was allowed to bring one, right?"

Haiden looked equal parts disappointed and horrified. "You're still _my_ date though. So that means you have to dance with me." He stated, slipping between me and Seth. Seth looked disgusted, which I found very entertaining. Mae cringed as Haiden went to grab her hands, and gave me an _I-have-no-idea_ smile before Haiden dragged her into the crowd.

Beside me, Seth sighed, looking lost. "Aw, c'mon you'll be fine. I'd follow them if I were you. Haiden seems _frisky_ tonight," I joked. He rolled his eyes and went after them.

It was my turn to feel lost. There was now no one I knew, and everyone around me seemed too busy grinding on each other for me to talk to them. My phone vibrated, and I went to read the text, thanking Raziel for an excuse to find my way out of the dancing masses. Squeezing between Downworlders and Shadowhunters, I pulled my phone out of my pocket and opened my messages. The screen seemed so bright, I was scared I'd draw too much attention to myself. I brushed aside the thought of someone picking me out of the crowd as I opened a text from Coen.

 _Hey. Meet me by the bar. I'm already sick of the people I came with._

Now, for normal people that text may have been like winning the lottery. Unfortunately, it was like a death sentence for me. Being socially awkward and constantly anxious, I felt my heart rate pick up and my mind start racing. I spotted the bar over the crowd. Luckily in these heels, I was nearly six feet tall- perks of Russian blood, I suppose. I did not want to go to meet him. But, for the sake of the mission and finding information, I started to push through people. Another text popped up.

 _Did you even come? You don't seem like the party type._

I was looking at the text when I finally broke free of the dance floor area. I looked up, surveying the people leaning against the long counter at the base of the staircase. Only a mansion would have its own bar. I spotted a frantically waving hand attached to a dark haired boy, and headed over.

"Seriously? 'Don't seem like the party type'? You have _no_ idea," I ranted by way of greeting.

Coen put a hand over his mouth to keep from spitting out his drink from my pathetic claim. Why was I nervous again?

He recovered, wiped his mouth and smiled. "Oh come on. Guys just pretend to be oblivious. Don't think I can't tell you're out of your element."

"My _element?_ " I asked, stealing his drink from his hand and cocking an eyebrow. I went to take a drink before he stopped me.

"If you were a party person, you'd know that this is not a drink for little Shadowhunter girls," he explained, stealing the glass back.

"Who are you calling _little_?" I asked, standing up to my full height. I towered over most of the girls here, and was as tall as Seth moments ago. Coen rolled his eyes and in turn stood up to his full height. I forgot he was leaning against the bar. "Oh," I squeaked, tilting my head up. I suppose being a werewolf and all he had an advantage.

Coen laughed again. "Don't you fight demons? You shouldn't be so easily intimidated."

"I..." I pushed down the bad memories that came flooding in at the mention of me fighting demons. The memories which were reasons I chose not to wear a backless dress tonight. "I'm the language specialist at the Institute. The most I've fought is a dust bunny." The amount of smiles I was getting out of Coen made my nerves ease off. I saw my chance to steer the conversation in favour of why I actually came here, and took it. "Ok, my turn for insults. You came tonight why? Did you have to cancel your regular Tuesday appointment with _Tiffany_ to come?"

"Woah," he started, holding up a hand. "I don't do..." He searched the room, and found and a girl getting her undies stuffed with dollar bills as she danced on a table not too far away. He pointed: "That." I felt a twinge of guilt; maybe the hooker insult was too far. "But yeah, I'm here 'cause the whole pack had tickets."

"The whole pack? Where'd you get that many tickets?" _Look at my interrogation skills, I could be a mundie cop,_ I thought back to the crime shows Mae and I watched.

"One of your kind- a Shadowhunter girl. Our pack leader is obsessed with her and was tryna get on her good side. I think they were supposed to have a date here or something." He shuddered in disgust at the thought. "Ew. I don't know what he sees in her, she's such an uptight bitch."

I faked a laugh despite the heaviness in my heart. Was he talking about Gennaia? Not only had she let these people into the Institute, she was running errands and being a salesperson for them? "Uptight bitch? Sounds like the woman I live with at the Institute."

"Ha, that's gotta suck. Can't imagine the rules-"

"Do you know her name?" I interrupted, suddenly impatient for information.

"Uh..." Coen looked taken aback. "Jenna? Janae? Gennaia? I don't remember. Why would you even care?"

"By the Angel..." I muttered, looking at my feet, lost in thought.

"What?" Coen saw me staring at my feet. "Is this party really taking that much out of you?" he asked, joking.

I quickly thought of how I could play him. Acting definitely was not my strong suit, but I could pull off a convincing sick act. I'd perfected it in order to get out of training back home. Besides, Coen actually seemed concerned, and I needed to talk to him. I looked back up, putting a hand to my head, faking a headache. It was pretty easy to pull off, the people and noise were getting to me. "Is there somewhere without a crowd? I just..."

"Yeah, yeah, of course," he said putting down his drink before I was finished. He started off, probably expecting me to follow. I picked myself off shook off my act.

After nearly losing Coen in the crowd and tripping over half the people on my way to the less packed margins of the room, I found Coen holding open a door. I went in with my sick face on again, and was surprised. It was a library, with probably half the books than the Institute, but twice the space. There were warm lights put into the walls, and the glass ceiling extended over us. The far wall was also glass, with doors implanted in it that lead to the huge backyard. It had started raining, and little droplets formed on the roof, leaving streaks dripping down the glass wall. For the first time since I'd come into the mansion, I took my first breath of air that hadn't tasted like sweat.

The relief I felt wasn't an act. Feeling free, I went over to an overstuffed chair facing the backyard. I sighed and looked back at Coen, who was still lingering by the doorway. He was leaning on the door, ready to head back out.

"Well- I'll just get going then. I'll come back later to check on-"

"Can I trust you?" I asked abruptly. I didn't know what else would keep him here.

Sensing there was something going on, he closed the door. The music was muffled outside, but still impossible to ignore. We studied each other for a minute.

"You didn't come here for the party did you?" he asked, coming to sit in a chair beside me.

"I thought you already figured that out," I commented, recalling earlier.

He seemed to realize something. Then the light, joking air he seemed to have left him and replaced by a serious, stern aura. I almost felt like I was sitting next to a different person.

"Okay, let's hear it," he said, leaning forward to listen.

I didn't know if I could trust him. He reminded me of my older brother, Anders. He was one of the only two people back home who didn't seem okay with how I was treated by the trainer. He was too scared to do anything about it, but was happy to see me escape to Paris. Maybe the likeness between the two boys was why I felt like I could trust the one in front of me, maybe that's why the story of how Gennaia was killed came pouring out. I told him we were lead here in an attempt to stay together, and save our program by handling the matter ourselves. l confessed I was looking for the identity of her assailant. I told him how we thought she was connected to the head of the organization that held their parties here, and how we suspected the organization was killing Shadowhunters, how there was a dead one in our basement. Finally, I asked him if he could help us.

At first, he didn't answer. His face stayed in the same serious expression, though I could tell he was lost and didn't know what to make of my story. "Well, I don't know what I was expecting," he concluded with a laugh, letting some of his joking persona back in.

"I know it's a lot, but I need _something._ Have you heard anything? A name, an address..."

Again, he didn't answer at first. He looked at his hands and blew out a sigh, then finally looked back up at me. "I... I've heard rumours."

I looked at him eagerly, telling him to go on. I was as giddy as when I had got a new book back in our secluded cabin.

He continued, grave despite my bouncy mood: "No one _really_ knows who owns this place. I've never seen him in person, and I don't know anyone who has. That's why I think he has- _had_ people like Gennaia running around for him. To protect his identity. Because if the Clave found out what he was doing, he'd be in big trouble. See, I've heard he's a Silent Brother. One who left the order."

"A _Silent Brother?_ Wh-" I was bursting with even more questions now. Coen gave me a look that told me he wasn't done, and I clamped my mouth shut.

"So he's a Brother not only fraternizing with the enemy, but worshipping it. The Clave would probably do worse than kill him, after he did the opposite of what he originally vowed. He supposedly has a huge group of people working with him, and they have these parties to look for more members. That's why you gotta be careful here, it's fun, but... I have no idea how they convince people to join..." he trailed off, shaking his head.

"Oh my god," I said slowly. We sat in silence for a minute, before I realized something was wrong. It was _silent_. There was no music. "Um..." I gestured towards the door, looking at Coen.

"I have no idea," he said, lowering his voice. "But if anything that I just told you is true, I suggest you get out of here."

We both got up and hurried towards the door. I thanked him before we both slipped out the door, into a crowd of people muttering in confusion.

"Text me when you get home safe," he told me before we parted ways, though I barely paid attention. I headed for the exit I came through with Daniel. Pushing through people, I found the front door, though no one else was trying to leave, which was strange. I felt bad for the people who didn't know that what was coming could be dangerous. I prayed everyone I knew would be at the gates already, where we said we'd meet when it was time to leave. I quickly decided if no one was already there, I'd send out a spam of text messages telling them to get out.

When I made my way to the gates, already soaked by the rain, only Jacques was there.

"Where is everyone?" I asked him, pulling out my phone to call Skylar. If I got a hold of her it would be a faster retreat than if I texted everyone. I tried to shield the device from the downpour, though my wet hair was no help.

"I don't know. I've been waiting for you guys for ages. I got sick of people and..."

Jacques' complaining faded away as I listened to a dreaded _call failed_ from my phone. I turned to him, starting to worry, and explained the danger they were in, how we needed to get in there and pull them out. When he asked why we couldn't just text or call, I threw my phone at him and ran for the front door; as any perfectly calm warrior would do.

I stopped at the door, Jacques trailing behind me. I tried the door. It was locked. I looked to the windows as some way to get in, now knowing everyone in there was in danger. The blinds were drawn and the windows dark. I had no idea what could be happening in there- but with the house owned by demon-worshippers, I guessed it was bad. I looked back at Jacques for ideas, desperation to get in starting to surface.

"La porte, c'est barrée," I told him how the door was locked, frantically gesturing at the knob. I spoke in his first language, hoping that familiarity would help him from panicking. The fact my makeup was running and I looked like the Joker probably contradicted the attempt.

"Le toit," he suggested, gesturing with my cell phone that would probably never work again. _The roof._

We both set to circling the building once, which had us both gasping for air. Thanks to the modern blocky architecture, we easily found a way to get to the roof. However, as soon as we started climbing, I found it was far harder than it looked. My palms were sweating from the nerves of being up high and anticipation for what had happened to my friends. The rain also made the building's sides slick, and I split my dress multiple times. I had a new appreciation for being forced to wear gear under everything blooming.

I was more relieved than I'd like to admit when we came to come to a ledge near the top. I stopped and stood next to Jacques as I inked an Unseen rune onto my arm. The roof was glass, and just within my reach. It was ideal for being able to see what was happening, but not so ideal for being discreet. If this building was on lockdown, I guessed they didn't want anyone seeing what they were doing. And I didn't want to know what they did to people they caught snooping, especially if I was a possible target in the first place. Plus, the makeup that had been covering my runes had washed away, making me more easily recognizable.

Nonetheless, I was the only one out of the two of us who could reach the roof. So, I jumped up and hauled myself onto the edge of the roof. I wiped at my mouth, hating the feeling of rain dripping off my chin. I slipped once, and my heart leapt. I anchored myself so that I wouldn't slide down the roof, and looked through the glass.

There were no more strobe lights. The normal light fixtures were bright with warm yellow-orange light. People were clearing the dance floor, moving to the edges of the room. I looked for Coen briefly, before an overwhelming sense of déjà vu hit me. As people moved away, a Star of David pattern built into the dark tiles of the dance floor was revealed. My stomach sunk. I knew what was coming even before it happened. Jacques would speak:

"Tara, qu'est-ce qui arrive?"

And then the people in bronze robes came out. They proceeded to their places, one person holding a candle for reach point of the star. And then another figure in bronze came out, and pushed his captive to her knees. Her hands were tied back, her dress shredded, her skin covered in bruises, her dark hair loose around her face. Mae looked up at those around her, her eyes burning with hate and an unbreakable stubbornness.

She was pushed forward and got to her feet, glaring at anyone who dared to make eye contact with her. The bronze figure brought her to the top point of the star, and applause slowly caught on. The clapping stopped as a second captive was brought in, and forced to another point of the star. I watched in horror as Seth took his place and the applause started back up. He looked to Mae, and then down, attempting to hide his face. The process of applause fading and rising continued as Sylynn was brought in thirdly, followed by Vesper and Daniel.

There was one place left on the star, at the bottom. The last captive was brought in, and all my hope that they were letting themselves be captured for show left me. Skylar was forced to the final position on the star, and the clapping subsided. They all looked horribly beaten, I could only imagine the amount of force and trauma it had taken to get them to comply.

A final bronze-clad figure came in, his arms raised. He seemed to be chanting.

"Jacques!" I squeaked, tearing my eyes away from the scene below. This was unmistaklably a sacrificing ritual. They had the right colour robes, it was the solstice, the _trial_ girl in the basement... how could we have been so stupid? For the first time ever I wished we'd listened to Jacques when he said we were walking right into their hands.

"We need a distraction NOW!" I had gone back to my default language, and was nearly hyperventilating trying to think of some way to stop this. I was lost for thought, and Jacques was frantically asking what was happening, his French so fast I could barely understand. I looked down and saw the bronze figure who had his arms raised draw back his hood. It was hard to see from so high up, but there was no doubting it was a Silent Brother. His mouth and eyes were sewn shut, his hair was gone and the ceremonial runes still covered his entire head. I was having trouble processing that what Coen had said was true, but my mind quickly changed gears. The silent brother pointed at Mae, and I saw her captor make a swift, unclear motion. Mae fell to the ground, limp.

"MAE!" I screamed, pounding on the glass. "NO! NO!" I kept screaming and pounding the glass, and was nearly sobbing when the idea came to me. "JACQUES! GET YOUR ASS UP HERE AND BREAK THE GLASS WITH ME!"

I saw the Silent Brother point at Seth next, and he too was either hit or cut I'm not sure, but he fell to the ground. I was furiously punching the glass when I saw wisps of green fire- Jacque's magic- creep along the roof. I saw Sylynn fall as I turned to scramble off the roof, knowing it was seconds from shattering and falling through. I was too late.

For not the first time in my life, I fell down to what I thought was my death.


End file.
